Not completely about the girl
by Striped Leopard 626
Summary: After Scorpia tried to kill him, Alex swore he was done forever. But when Alan Blunt comes to Alex personally four years later, Alex is drawn back into the world he thought he'd left behind years ago.
1. Chapter 1

Hey all. This is my first Alex Rider fic, so be kind with your reviews. Please. This takes place three years post-Scorpia.

* * *

Eighteen year old Alex Rider walked out of school, a smile on his face as he waved to his friends. He was now a in his last year of high school, and about to head off to university. If he could pass his finals. That was the only concern he had.

When he got to the sidewalk though, his smile dropped clean off his face. He scowled at the man standing by the black sedan. He didn't recognize him, but the tinted windows, the pristine suit on the man, they were all familiar enough. The man swept his eyes over the young man, and moved to open the back door. Alex turned his back on the car, and started walking down the block.

"Alex!" The voice made him freeze, and turn. Alan Blunt himself was standing next to the car. "Don't walk away from this." He wasn't shouting, but Alan's voice carried far enough on it's own. "We need you." Ignoring the odd looks he was getting from his peers, Alex walked over to the car, his brown eyes darkening.

"You swore I was done Alan." He said. Alan's jaw tightened.

"I am well aware of that Alex." He replied. "But there is really no one else. If there were any others, would I have come here in person?" Alex's face tightened as he fought an internal battle. To get in the car, or not to get in the car. That was the big question. "Alex, please." Alex's eyes snapped up to meet Blunt's. There was a look of sadness in them that made him falter.

"All right." He said after a moment that seemed to have stretched into entirety. "But if I don't like it, I'm out." Alan nodded, and got in. Alex glanced around, but no one seemed to be watching. He slid into the car beside Alan, and it drove away.

* * *

Alex sat in Alan's office, his jaw set, glaring at the MI6 agent. Mrs. Jones entered, and her eyes fell on Alex's figure, which was folded into a leather chair. A small smile twitched at her lips. 

"Hello Alex." She said after a long moment. She studied him for another long minute. He'd grown quite a bit since she last saw him, nearly for years before. Right after he'd gotten out of the hospital because Scorpia had shot him. He'd filled out quite nicely, and he'd let his hair grow out to just below his ears. His brown eyes were hidden behind thin, silver framed glasses that made him look a little more mature.

"Hi." He said flatly. The smile faded a little. She knew he didn't want to be here, and she couldn't blame him in the least bit. "Well, can we get on with this then?" She nodded, and took a seat, looking to Alan. Alex did too, and almost let his jaw drop. Alan was biting his lip, a hand on his forehead. This was the most emotion he had ever seen from the man.

"We have a small problem." He said finally, his voice shaky. Alex swallowed nervously.

"Yes?"

"My niece." Alan said after a moment of hesitation. "She lives in America with my sister. Her father died when she was six." He said slowly.

"What about her?"

"She was working with the CIA, undercover." He said quietly. "But she disappeared a week ago." Alex bit his lip. He could feel his resolve dissolving with every word from Alan Blunt. "The CIA just contacted me about it last night. They can't find her. Something may have gone wrong, but they're reluctant to send in anyone right now. They think their entire team may have been compromised."

"And they don't want anyone who could be recognized, right?" Alex asked coolly. Alan nodded, agonizingly slowly.

"Right."

"And I wouldn't be recognized."

"Not only that. . . But you're-" Alan's voice cracked, and he stopped. Mrs. Jones picked it up.

"You're her age. If you went to Hawaii, it wouldn't be very suspicious." Alex bit his lip.

"We're not expecting much. We just want to find her." Alan spoke again, and his voice was under control. "Please." It was the please that caught Alex's attention. He bit his lip. He had always wanted to go to Hawaii. . .

He let out a long sigh and sat back in the chair. "Fine. Fine. I'll go."

* * *

"Hawaii?" Smithers asked as Alex walked in. He eyed Alex, and smiled. "You've bulked up. Not that scrawny fourteen year old anymore, are you?" He asked. Alex smirked and shook his head. "Okay, okay. Gadgets. Here you are." He pressed a button on his desk that made a drawer on the other side of the room open. Alex walked over, and eyed the contents thoughtfully. An iPod, a cell phone and a laptop computer. Alex raised an eyebrow at him. 

"What, now watch?" Smithers just shook his head.

"Later dear boy. Later." Smithers said, waving a fat hand. "Now for your gadgets. . ." (**A/N: **I'm too tired to think of what they could be. If you'll give me some ideas in review form, that'd be great.)

* * *

Alex looked around him as the plane landed smoothly. The flight had gone well, but now he was wondering why he was even doing this? He's sworn to himself that he would not go back. He wouldn't work for Alan Blunt ever again. Ever. 

But here he was, in Hawaii at Alan Blunt's request. Why?

Because someone needed help, and Alex Rider was not a person to refuse to help. He hated himself for that sometimes.

As he descended the stairs into her terminal, he spotted a man standing off to the side of the crowd, in a dark suit and tie, sunglasses folded and hooked over his pocket. Skirting the crowd on the other side, Alex walked up behind the man.

"Harry Stineman?" He asked, naming ther person he was supposed to be meeting. The man whipped around to face Alex, his eyes wide. "I'm Alex." He gave the man a quick once over. He was nothing special. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin. Had he not been wearing a wool suit in the middle of the Hawaii on a ninety degree day, Alex wouldn't have given him a second thought.

"Good God boy!" The man exclaimed, his hand on his heart. "You nearly gave me a heart attack? How'd you know it was me?" Alex shrugged.

"You're in the middle of Hawaii, ninety degrees outside, and you're wearing a full wool suit. Just a little conspicuous." He said sarcastically. "You got ID?" Stineman nodded, holding out his wallet for Alex. Alex took it, and looked at the CIA ID card carefully. He slid it out of it's slot and ran his fingers over it. Stineman didn't flinch, he just waited patiently as Alex checked the laminating job. Finally, he put it back, and handed it to Stineman. "All right."

* * *

Sorry it's short. And that it sucks. I just wanted to get the first chapter up and posted. The next one will be longer. I swear. And remember, I need ideas for the gadgets. Please.

Ooh! And I almost forgot! I didn't know this until I read someone else's story. There's an Alex Rider movie coming out towards the end of this year! I am so happy! I tracked down a preview, and I have to say, the guy they got to play Alex, a guy named Alex Penyfer I think, is so very very HOT! Ahh! Okay, I'm done, and you can go now...


	2. Chapter 2

I love you guys. Really, I do. Thanks for reviewing with gadget ideas. I'm going to try to use them all. I'd also like to thank (again) **taurausgirl** for her notes on my language in the previous chapter. Here in the states, we call mobiles cell phones, and I didn't know that Alex would call it a mobile. Thanks again!

Okay, and on with the story!

* * *

"So what do you know about this case?" Harry asked. Alex sank into the chair, facing Alan's niece's team. They were all staring him down, and he was trying not to be intimidated, but it really was very hard.

In his defense, he did have twenty some-odd hardened CIA agents staring him down.

"Almost nothing." Alex replied. "All I was told was that Alan Blunt's niece was missing, and he needed my help."

"So you just jumped at the opportunity to save our asses?" One of the men asked. Alex swept his eyes up to him.

"No." He replied coolly. The man looked taken aback. "I've worked with the CIA before, and I wasn't too eager to do it again." So he was being harsh, but could anyone blame him?

"All right then." Harry said, and handed him a file. "There is a group of drug runners on the island. Lindsay Blunt was working her way up in the group. She was getting pretty close to the top when she just dropped off the face of the Earth last Tuesday." Alex looked down at the girl's picture in the file. It wasn't a head shot like he would have expected, it was a picture of her getting into a car, her black hair blowing into her gray eyes. He fought the smile that threatened to come over his face. She was pretty.

"All we know," Another man added "Is that she was last seen here." He pointed to the picture. "Getting in this car with the head man himself." Alex lifted the picture to find another one, this one of a man. "Demetri Orlov."

"Russian drug dealers?" Alex couldn't help the skepticism in his voice. "Russians are usually into heavier things, like arms dealings."

"Yes, well. . ." Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "They're a bit unorthodox. Which is why we were having trouble." Alex nodded. "Whatever you need you'll have." Harry said. "Lindy was - is a valued member of this team." Harry smacked himself in the forehead.

"Right. Can I have the name of the hotel where she was staying?"

"We've already gotten you a room. Same floor where she was staying." Alex nodded thoughtfully.

"Good. I'll need a second room too." He said. That earned him strange looks, but he didn't care. He was being cautious. "Under the name Kenny Alan." He said. Harry raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyway. "I'll also need the names and locations of everywhere she's been in the past week." Harry nodded, and looked to one of the others around the table. She got up and hurried out of the room, presumably to get the information.

"That will probably take us until tomorrow morning. Now, how'd you like a drink?" Alex raised an eyebrow.

"I don't drink." He said. "Plus, I think I've got a bad case of jet lag." Harry smiled.

"Right. You can go straight to your hotel then. Follow me then."

* * *

Alex walked around the hotel room in a circle. Actually it was a resort, but it was all the same to him. He flopped down on one of the beds and stared at the ceiling, his hands behind his head. Absently, the fingers of his left hand slid down to the small white scar on the right side of his chest. He sighed. If he hadn't moved an inch to the left at the last second, the bullet would have pierced his heart. As it was, puncturing a lung was bad enough. He closed his eyes, remembering the moment he woke in the hospital._

* * *

Beep._

_Beep. _

_Beep. _

_That was the only thing in the world. The strange beeping sound that wouldn't stop. Alex fought to open his eyes, and the beep grew louder, and faster, slowly but surely. _

"_Alex? Alex, can you hear me!" The voice was far away, and he tried to reach for it, but his world exploded into silence again. _

_The next time he tried to wake up, he was able to open his eyes. It was dark outside, and Jack was asleep in a chair, her neck at an obviously uncomfortable angle. His eyes roamed around the room. White walls, white ceiling, white floor. Blue and white curtains. Had to be a hospital. _

"_Alex?" His eyes landed back on Jack. Her eyes widened. "Oh Lord, Alex!" Her hands flew around her in a flurry, as though she wasn't sure what to do with them. "You're awake! I'll be right back!" She shot out of her chair, and through the door, returning only seconds later with a grip on a doctor's stiff white coat. His eyes widened when he saw Alex. _

"_Mr. Rider." He said. His voice was low and soft. "Nice to see you're awake." Alex nodded weakly. He started to sit up, but pain shot through his chest, and his breathing became heavy and labored. He eased himself back into his pillows. What had happened?_

_A punch to the chest._

_The road tilted._

_Blood._

_Pain._

_His parents._

_No pain. _

_Then darkness._

_He'd been shot. _

"_Don't try that again." Jack said, her hand firmly on his shoulder. "At least for right now." _

"_What happened?" Alex asked her. Her eyes darkened. _

"_They shot you. Those sons-of-"_

"_Jack!"_

"_They shot a fourteen-year-old boy! They deserve to be called the foulest names that man can conceive! Then beaten with sticks and dragged through streets behind horses while being stoned, and. . ." Alex sighed, and looked to the doctor as Jack continued her rant. Maybe he could provide a more rational explanation._

"_You were shot." He said. Jack stopped her rambling. "Missed your heart by about an inch, but it caught your lung. We've removed the bullet, and reinflated your lung, but it's going to take a long time before you're back to normal." _

* * *

In truth, it had been years before Alex had returned to normal, if that's what you could call it. It was almost four years later, and he still had some trouble breathing when he ran for long distances.

He got up and grabbed a shirt out of his suitcase. He didn't want to be sucked back into this life. He didn't want to be a spy again. He wanted to be a normal boy again, at least as normal as he had ever been.

He slid his shoes on his feet, and slid his wallet into his jeans. He needed to relax. He'd found it disgusting how easy it was to slip back into agent-mode as he liked to call it. He'd been out of the 'game' for four years. Yet here he was, just because Blunt asked him to be.

It disgusted him.

He padded down the carpeted hall to the room that had been Lindsay's, and slipped his wallet out of his pants pocket. He smiled as he pulled out what looked like a drivers license. He slid it into the key card slot, and pulled it out. The light turned green, and he pushed the door open. He closed the door quietly behind him, and turned on the light. His brown eyes swept over the room, from the open suitcases to the closed blinds. He stepped over to the suitcase and peered into it. He smirked. The suitcase was anything but orderly. Shirts, socks, pants, shorts, skirts and bras were all jumbled around. He slid a finger under one of the straps, and pulled out a rather lacy bra. He smirked, then let it fall back into the suitcase. He moved on to the another open suitcase. More clothes. Except these were different. They were folded neatly. He picked up a pair of folded dress pants. Inside was also a couple satin shirts that were sure to, shall we say accentuate a particular part of the female anatomy? His smirk growing, he folded them all back again, and place them in the exact same positions. He moved on to the last suitcase, which was filled with clothes one might find on a fashion-challenged woman. He shook his head. This girl had to be a master at disguise. If she wasn't in trouble, and just wanted to disappear, she could do it easily.

But why not inform her Uncle then? Why not contact Blunt?

He sighed and walked over to the dresser. On it rested several odds and ends. A pair of sunglasses, a mobile. . . Mobile? What girl in their right mind leaves their mobile in their room? He picked it up to open it, then noticed the weight difference. It was only slightly heavier than the typical mobile, but Alex knew exactly what a weight difference could mean. He put it back down, deciding he was safer that way.

He turned away from the dresser and looked around the room. There wasn't much else there. He ducked into the bathroom, and felt a little nosy. He shrugged off the feeling, and poked open her makeup bag. Nothing too suspicious there. He sighed as he strode over to the door. He hadn't really been expecting to find anything important, but the fact that he hadn't was a little disappointing.

Outside the hotel, a man watched the light go off. His eyes narrowed. Who'd been in her room?

* * *

The next morning, a loud knock on Alex's door woke him. He cracked one eyes and glanced at the window, as that was the way he was facing. It was barely even light out. He rolled over and looked at the clock. 5:30. Shit.

"Alex?" It was Harry Stineman's voice. "Alex!" Muttering curses under his breath, Alex stumbled over to the door, and flung it open. He blinked blearily in the bright light from the hallway. Harry looked worried. "Thank God!" He exclaimed after a moment. Alex raised an eyebrow at him.

"What the hell?" He asked, and yawned. Harry glanced nervously down the hallway. Stepping back, Alex motioned Harry into the room, and shut the door. He slipped into the bathroom pulled on a shirt, and splashed some cold water on his face. It helped wake him up a little.

"Sorry to wake you up this early." Harry said as Alex emerged. "But we received some intelligence early this morning." Alex ruffled his hair with his hand as he sat down on his bed, just sinking into the softness. "Someone was in Lindsay's room last night." Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Around eleven?" Harry did a bad job of hiding his surprise.

"How'd you know that?" Alex flopped back on his bed.

"Because I was in her room around eleven last night." He said. Harry stared at him.

"How'd you get in?" Silene met his question. "Of course." Harry nodded. "You can't tell me." Alex nodded.

"Is that it?" He asked. Harry shook his head, his eyes widening.

"Oh no! I wouldn't have gotten you up this early just for that!" Alex tried to keep himself from falling back asleep. "Orlov knows you're here!" Alex was suddenly very much awake.

"What?" He didn't shout it, and it wasn't really a question.

"We're not sure how, but we've gotten word through our informant net that Orlov knows there's a British agent here somewhere." Alex groaned, and flopped back on his bed. How did they _always_ know? They always _knew_ there _was_ and agent, but they never knew who it was. He made a mental note to ask Blunt that when he got back. "And I wanted to give you this." Harry handed him a PDA. "It's got a list of all the places Lindy was supposed to go. If she made any stops along her way, it's not on there." Alex frowned.

"What am I supposed to do? Wander around with this? That's not suspicious." Harry shot him an annoyed look, and pulled a small cable out of his pocket.

"This will let you transfer the information to your cell phone." He said, and handed Alex the chord. He also pulled out a card. _H. Stineman. Investment Banker._ Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Can you people come up with nothing more creative than banks and bankers?" He asked. Harry glared at him good-naturedly.

"Well, the idea _was_ original, until everyone started using it. We just thought that since bankers are old and boring, it was a good cover." Alex muttered something unintelligible under his breath. "We can't meet anymore, because it might draw unwanted attention. If you need anything, call that number, and ask for me." Alex nodded, and Harry left the room.

* * *

Four hours later, Alex was getting frustrated. He was on his way to the sixteenth place on his list when he saw an interesting looking club. There was just something about it that snagged his attention. He couldn't help walking in. After making his way to the bar, he flagged down a bartender.

"Can I help you?" He man asked. Alex nodded.

"Yes. I'm looking for my cousin. She might have been in here last week, probably on Tuesday." The man looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Cousin? She British too?" Alex shook his head.

"No. She's American. About 5"6', black hair, pretty. Couldn't miss her." The man nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I think she was talking to some Russian guy." He said reflectively. "Hang on, let me get Mike. He was working the tables last Tuesday." He turned. "Hey Mike!" A younger man with bleached blonde hair came over.

"Yeah boss?"

"This guys looking for his cousin. That hot chick who was in here last Tuesday, with the Russian guy." Mike eyed Alex.

"Cousin?"

"Yes. My Aunt Marie is worrying herself to death about this. She was supposed to come home on Sunday, but she didn't." He lied, surprising himself when he only felt the faintest twinge of guilt. He pushed it away, and was disgusted to find how easily he was able to.

"Have you filed a missing persons report?" Alex nodded, preparing himself for another lie. They just came too easily.

"Yes, but they can't do anything about it yet. Something about rules and regulations. . ." Mike nodded, wiping his hands on the towel he was holding.

"Okay. So when was she here?"

"I think on Tuesday." He replied. "She about this tall," He held up his hand. "Dark hair, gray eyes, really pretty." Mike nodded, smirking.

"No offense man, but your cousin is hot." Alex sighed.

"None taken man, I hear it all the time. All the time." He pretended to look annoyed. "So have you seen her around?" Mike shook his head.

"No dude, sorry." Alex nodded, and exchanged a handshake with the man.

"Thanks anyway. At least I know where she was Tuesday."

* * *

Twelve hours later, Alex had nothing more than when he'd left the bar. Before he'd gone, he'd also had Mike give him the description of the Russian she was with. It didn't fit Orlov's picture, but it did seem to fit his right hand man, Isidor Konstantinov. As he paced his room, he looked out his window at the beach. Maybe a walk would help him clear his head. He slid on a pair of 'flip-flops' which he'd bought earlier that day, and headed down to the beach.

As he walked down the deserted beach, Alex's mind wandered father and father as his body got farther and farther away from the resort. Where was Lindsay? And what had happened to her?

* * *

Thanks again to those who reviewed the first chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

See, this is the problem with tryng to do too many stories at the same time. You loose track of which one you need to work on. I'm working on two fics on this site, and two full original stories on another site, and I seem to have put this story in the back of my mind. So sorry guys! Okay, anyway, here' the next chapter! Hope you guys like it! Oh, and also thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you guys!

* * *

Her body was on fire. That was the only logical explanation.

"_This is what happens to those who don't listen. Don't obey." _A voice hissed, snakelike in her ear. A hand ran itself through her hair, down her cheek and around to the back of her neck. She shivered involuntarily. Okay, so maybe she wasn't on fire. Who knows. Except the guy who was touching her. She managed to open her eyes a crack, and exhaled slowly. It was the man she'd been with in that bar. _Isidor_ her mind told her. She closed her eyes again.

_Harry. Guys._ She pleaded silently. _Please find me.

* * *

_

Alex glanced up at the large house set on the cliff above his head. _How did I get here?_ He asked himself, then shook his head. That didn't really matter. With a smile, he slid his mobile out of his pocket, and flipped it open. He held it up, and typed in the number 22. After a second, the screen went black. Then it showed a picture of the mansion, and Alex pressed the zoom button. It zoomed in over a hundred times, and he could now clearly see the armed guards. He pulled a pair of ear buds out of his pocket, and plugged them in. He could now hear the guards talking. In Russian.

"Demetri is crazy!" Alex frowned, wishing he'd paid more attention in class. Since he already knew German, Spanish and French, those classes would have been too easy. So he'd opted for Russian.

"Crazy. That little spy is more trouble than she's worth."

"Ah, but you forget." Alex heard a sound off to his right, and glanced over. "The girl insulted Demetri. She betrayed him." Alex heard the sound again, and figured he'd heard enough of the conversation. They were more than likely talking about Lindsay. Why was it so hard for them to find her? The house was right near the resort. That couldn't have been a coincidence, and it wasn't in the file he was given. In the morning, Harry was going to get an earful.

* * *

"But if you look here, at the file, then-" Harry began. The door flew open, and Alex strode in. "Alex! What a surprise!" Alex's dark eyes were alight with an internal fire, fueled by his anger. Harry's eyes widened as his eyes took in Alex's stance. "Can we help you?" 

"You know where she is." He said. The woman Harry had been talking with shifted her weight nervously. Harry blinked at Alex a few times, but made no other move.

"Yes."

"Then why did you need me?" Harry turned to the others in the room, and gave a nod. Without a word, everyone else left the room. Alex waited for Harry to start talking, but he didn't. "Why do you need me?" He asked again. Harry looked up at him, and was silent for another beat.

"We know her general location." He replied. "But what we don't know is how to get her out. We can't afford it either."

"You can't afford it?" Alex asked in shock.

"No. It could damage our investigation." He replied, his face darkening.

"Damn your investigation!" Alex exclaimed. Harry's expression didn't change. "A girl's life is at risk here, and you are talking about _damaging your investigation!_"

"Why don't you have a seat Alex?"

"I am _not_ going to have a seat!" Four years of pent up frustration against the government was spewing out. Grated, he was shouting at the wrong government, but right now he didn't care. They were using him just as easily as Blunt had. "All you care about is your bloody investigation!" Now normally Alex didn't use the word 'bloody' because it was such an overused word in American movies. Annoying really.

Harry rose out of his seat. "_Officially_, I cannot go after her. _Un_officially, I can give you whatever help you need! _Un_officially, I don't give a shit about this investigation if it means endangering Lindsay's life!" Alex stopped yelling, and the anger seeped out of him. Harry wasn't the one he was mad at, and there was absolutely no reason to be. "Her Uncle sent you here to help us go in after her. The running around today was merely an exercise."

"Your little followers aren't very good at hiding." He retorted, and dropped into a chair, folding his arms over his chest. Harry smirked.

"I'll have to have a word with them about that."

"It also probably didn't help me remain inconspicuous." Alex remarked, and Harry shrugged.

"It was necessary. Now, I have a plan for getting her out, I just can't do it. I'm far too old." Alex narrowed his eyes. "It's dangerous. Orlov's mansion is a fortress. Here's the blueprints." He unrolled a roll of paper. Alex spent a good half an hour studying them before either of them spoke again.

"This looks impossible." He said. Harry smirked.

"Nearly. If you get through this alive, we should put in a call to the IMF." He said, and chuckled. Alex stared at Harry, who sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's the organization Ethan Hunt works for in the Mission Impossible movies?" Alex smirked.

"I the first one a few times, but after I started working for MI6, it just seemed too fake." Harry just laughed.

* * *

Alex bit his lip as he stood up in the tree. He felt ridiculous, but Harry had insisted. He was wearing all black. Black pants that were far too tight for his tastes, a skintight black shirt, and a black hat. The hat he didn't have a problem with, because on a starless night like tonight, his blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb. His hand slid over his shoulder to his pack. He pulled out the iPod from Smithers, and turned it on. He held it up, and looked at the screen. Two figures in varying shades of red, orange, and yellow meandered through it. He slowly swept it in a circle around himself. Three more guards. Not a problem. He reached into his back, and pulled out what appeared to be a .9 mm police issue handgun. He ejected the magazine and smirked. Stun darts. Just like he'd insisted. Harry had wanted to give him a real gun, but Alex had refused. He wasn't out to kill people. Keeping the iPod out, he changed the song, and it now showed him where all of the security systems were, and lasers were blue lines of light on the screen. He avoided them all, slipping into the mansion undetected. He stuck the iPod back into his pack, and pulled out his mobile. He put in one ear bud, and moved it around in a circle. Though Harry did have the blueprints for the place, he didn't know where Lindsay was being held. That part was up to Alex.

* * *

Sorry it's a little short, and I'll try to update sooner, rather than later. 


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